


Corner of the World 12: Hero's Reward

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [12]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-27
Updated: 2011-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 23:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lionel overreacts after Lex risks his life at the Plant.  Lex seeks refuge at the Kents'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 12: Hero's Reward

Would it have been too much for them just to ask me if I were ok? Just to make sure? For Jonathan to maybe shake my hand, and Martha to touch my arm? And Clark ...

But no. Nothing. I got nothing but a cold hug from my father, while the Kents showered their son with enough love and caresses to feed an army of loved-starved Luthors.

Clark tried, of course. After his parents hugged him, after he squeezed Chloe, patted Pete on the shoulder, smiled shyly at Lana, Clark made his way over to me. But, by then, I was signing paper work and discussing things with the workers, trying to get my factory open again.

No time for love, Mr. Kent. Try again tomorrow. Make an appointment with Damien.

To make everything worse, Dad followed me home. While schmoozing with the press, he'd made a big show of sending the helicopter away, emphasizing how important it was to spend time with me.

"I have to spend some time with my son. After what he did," He broke off there, beaming at me proudly, fire and darkness behind his eyes. "He's a hero."

Tomorrow's headline "LEX LUTHOR SAVES KIDS, SPENDS QUALITY TIME WITH DAD."

He never asked if I needed to go to the hospital. I got clocked on the head, knocked around by an lunatic, then fell off a bridge, clinging to said lunatic, hundreds of feet above solid concrete. My head, back, neck, arms were all screaming pain, but he didn't even ask if I was ok.

I wouldn't have gone to one, of course; I hate hospitals. But that's not why he didn't ask. He didn't ask because he doesn't care.

Sighing, I pour myself drink. Damien, super assistant that he is, produced some painkillers with a dosage so high, they must be illegal. I took them an hour ago and, right now, I feel really good. Depressed, but at least I'm not in pain. He ordered me to go to bed, but I can't sleep. The logical part of my mind that's trying to function is reminding me that I shouldn't be drinking with the meds in me, but I'm too high to care.

I never knew I could be depressed and high at the same time. Live and learn.

I'm his fucking boyfriend. Doesn't that count for something? I mean, shouldn't the Kents have said something to me? Some sort of, "Good job, Lex. I'm proud of you," type thing?

"Fuck," I laugh to myself, sipping my Screwdriver. "I want the Kents to be proud of me."

"Honestly, how pathetic can you get?"

It takes me a second to realize my pool table is not talking to me, but, rather, my father has just entered the room.

I swallow hard. "Uh ... Hey, Dad."

Dad closes the door behind him, looking at me though rock hard eyes. "Lex. We need to talk."

***

Apparently, even heroes are required to do their homework. Oh, Clark was fairly certain that he could get away with going to school the next day with none of it done. After all, his entire class had been held hostage; it was probably a safe bet that most of the students were having some problems dealing with it, at least enough to excuse them from homework. Clark had tried to convince his parents he was too shook up to concentrate, but they insisted he try.

"If you're going to make a weekly habit of rescuing people, you have to learn to go on with your normal life too," Martha had told him with a teasing tone in her voice.

His father agreed, and Clark found himself in the barn, doing his algebra. He wanted to be in the house, baking brownies for Lex with his mother, but no. He had _homework_ to do.

Clark sighed and finished the problem he was on.

Being a hero also wasn't enough to get him off for the party fiasco. He'd tried to explain that he hadn't meant for it to be a party, but his parents wouldn't listen. He was officially grounded for two weeks, phone and Internet access restricted, and no going over to Lex's. Lex could visit him at the house, but Clark was not to set foot on the Luthor property until his punishment was over.

"It's not fair," he sighed, reading the next problem. Normally algebra, like all his subjects, was easy. He spent a very small time studying to earn his A's. Tonight, though, it was taking him forever. His mind just didn't want to concentrate.

"Clark?" Lex's voice floated weakly across the barn.

Startled, Clark turned. His mouth fell open as he took in the sight of his lover.

"Can I come in?" Lex asked.

Clark shot up from his seat, bounding across the room to Lex. "What happened?" he demanded, fear and anger coursing through him.

Lex was pale and shaking, as if cold. He had been beaten, and badly, at least by Clark's estimation. Blood dripped down his chin from a split lip, splashing on his shirt. His nose was bleeding as well, and swollen. There was an ugly bruise below his ear, an egged shape lump protruding. His right eye was bruised and watering. There was a red mark on his left cheek in the shape of a hand. As he walked across the barn to Clark, Lex held himself stiffly, as if it hurt to move.

Stumbling, he fell into Clark. The teen wrapped his arms around the smaller man, half-supporting, half-holding him.

Lex cried out, arching his back.

"Lex? Lex, what happened?"

Lex spit some blood on the floor. "I don't ...I'm not exactly sure," he gasped, laughing. His eyes were unfocused, looking dazed. "Nothing. I mean ... I don't feel well. Can I lie down?"

"No. I've got to get you inside. See if Mom can fix you up."

Lex grabbed Clark tightly. "No. Please."

"Come on."

When Lex refused to move, Clark picked him up, and ran down the stairs. It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking into super-speed, but he couldn't with Lex in his arms.

"Mom!" Clark shouted.

Lex managed to struggle out of Clark's arm, trying to get away. When Clark continued to move, Lex stiffened his legs, jamming them into the floor. Clark stumbled, then twisted around, taking Lex under the armpits and dragging him into the living room.

"What happened?" Martha demanded, rising. "Jon, get the first aid kit."

Jonathan, already out of the room, waved back at her. "I'm going, honey."

"Lex, come on!" Clark tugged him to the couch, forcing him to sit down.

Lex refused to bend, panic entering his deep blue eyes.

"Lex, sit. Please, we're not going to hurt you. Please, Lex," Clark begged, trying to bend Lex.

The older man blinked, and abruptly sat.

"Clark? Lex? Will someone tell me what happened?"

Clark shook his head, sitting beside Lex. Lex immediately grabbed onto him, holding on tightly.

Putting a comforting arm around Lex, Clark answered, "I'm not sure. He ... he didn't make much sense when he was talking."

"Lex? Can you tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened. I'm fine."

Martha on the coffee table, facing Lex. Glancing at Clark, she looked back at the injured boy, reaching out to take him by the chin.

Immediately, Lex jerked back. His head connected with Clark's chin with an audible crack, and he cried out softly, closing his eyes.

Jonathan entered the room again, walking to his wife with the kit. Leaning next to her, he whispered, "If he's been beaten, he's not going to want to be touched by people he doesn't know very well."

Nodding her head, Martha sighed. "Yes, I know, but he won't let go of Clark. And he's got to be more afraid of you than he is of me." Turning back to Lex, she opened the first aid kit. Pulling out gaze and antiseptic, she said, "Lex, honey, I have to touch you to help you. I need to clean off your lip and see how badly you're hurt."

"I'm ok," he whispered.

"No, you're not. I'm not going to hurt you."

Jonathan sat next to his wife, handing her gloves. "What happened?" he asked, glancing at Clark.

"Nothing," Lex responded.

Clark shook his head, feeling helpless. "He won't say. He just showed up like this."

Lex's eyes were still closed. He was rocking back and forth, whispering under his breath. Clark couldn't make out what he was saying, but it sounded like, "Nothing's wrong. Nothing happened. It's ok. Nothing happened."

Clearing his throat, Jonathan asked, "Lex? Can you hear me?"

The injured man twitched. "I'm not deaf, sir."

A smile quirked the farmer's lips. "Is your father at home?"

Lex shrugged.

"Do you know where you are?"

He shrugged again.

"Lex?"

"Yes, sir?"

Looking frustrated, Jonathan wiped his upper lip. Glancing at his wife, he appeared to be deep in thought. Then he turned back. "Lex, you're with Clark now. Safe. At his home. And you have to answer something for me. Can you answer a question?"

"Ok."

"Did you drive over here?"

Lex opened his eyes, looking confused. He bit his lower lip, and winced, blood staining his teeth. "I don't know, I ... Wait. Yes. I drove." He blinked again, glancing around as if he wasn't sure where he was. Then some of the confusion cleared. "Oh," he breathed. He glanced at Clark. Comprehension and relief flood his eyes, his shoulder's relaxing. "I ... I took some medication earlier. Before ... anyway, I've been floating in and out. I'm sorry."

Jonathan shook his head. "Well, that and I think you may be in slight shock. It's all right; you've had a rough day."

"Ok, Lex," Martha broke in. "I'm going to clean your lip off. I want to see how bad the cut is. It might sting a little, but I'll try not to hurt you."

Closing his eyes, Lex pressed against Clark. "Ok."

Clark put his arms around Lex's shoulder, his free hand seeking his lover's. Feeling how badly Lex was shivering, he asked, "Dad? Can you get a blanket, please?"

Nodding, Jonathan left the room again.

Wet gauze in her gloved hand, Martha began cleaning off Lex's lip. The split looked worse than it really was. It was in the center of Lex's lower lip, cracked clear across. Blood still welled up in tiny droplets, but the worst seemed to be over.

As Martha cleaned, Lex writhed on the couch, small sounds escaping his throat. Clark blushed, mentally kicking himself; his lover was in pain and all Clark could think of what how much Lex sounded like he was having sex. Bad, bad thoughts to be having with his mother in the room.

"Done. I think you're lip is saved, young man," Martha said as Jonathan returned with a quilt.

"Here, son." He glanced at Lex. "Have you checked his nose, Martha?"

Clark took the quilt, and maneuvered so he was sitting behind Lex, the older man in his lap. Wrapping the quilt around Lex and, he peeked around, switching to X-ray vision. "It's not broken," he told his mother.

Martha glared. "Oh?"

"No. It's not bleeding enough." Mentally, he fumed, _Oh, I like the trust there, Mom. I'm not going to give it away like that. Not even to Lex. Jeeze._

Lex stirred. "Give what away?" he asked sleepily.

Fear jolted through Clark, twisting his stomach. For a moment, he was afraid that he'd said the last out loud, until he saw his parents exchange confused looks. Clark relaxed, putting the question off to Lex's condition.

Kissing Lex's head, Clark whispered, "Nothing"

Jonathan sat next to his wife. "Lex," he said softly. "Will you please tell us what happened?"

Martha rose and went to the kitchen.

Lex sighed, resting his head against Clark's shoulder.

"I'm not exactly certain," Lex said to Jonathan. "I mean, in the concrete, I got beaten. In the abstract, I have no idea how the hell it started." He rubbed his eyes and jerked in pain as he touched the bruise.

Martha re-entered with two ice packs. "Here. Put this against your nose. Clark, hold this one on his eye." She sat across from them.

"Who hit you?" Jonathan asked.

"Who do you think?" countered Lex evenly.

"I thought you said that your dad didn't beat you," said Clark as Jonathan scowled angrily.

Lex laughed, sounding slightly hysterical. "He doesn't. Which has to mean that this didn't happen. Maybe Earl ... Dad doesn't do things like this. Not to me."

Clark pet him soothingly. "It's ok, Lex. Shhhh." He kissed his lover's cheek, feeling a helpless rage settle over him. He wanted to hurt Lionel Luthor. Badly. And that scared him.

"Lex, tell us what happened," Jonathan said.

Lex sighed and closed his eyes. "We went home. Dad locked himself up in my office, making a bunch of calls, dealing with the situation. I was in a lot of pain, so my assistant gave me the medicine and told me to go to bed."

"Why didn't you go the doctor?" asked Martha.

"My doctor's been coming out here too much as it is. Suddenly he's taking every chance he gets to run another test on me. I didn't want to see him again. Anyway, I didn't go to bed. I went to my entertainment room. I was watching some show ... it was really bad, but I didn't care. Then, I was making a drink and my dad walked in.

"He said we had to talk, so we did. He kept saying things, telling me how stupid I had been. I guess I was ... insolent. Smart assed. Whatever, I guess I was asking for it." Lex shuddered. "Dad never loses control. Ever. I'm the emotional one, not him. Me. But ... he was out of control. I've never seen him like that." He began trembling.

Clark wrapped his arms tighter, making soothing sounds as he kissed Lex's cheek and neck. "It's ok. You're safe. You're with us, now. You're safe."

After a few moments, Lex relaxed. "I don't know when he would have stopped. I mean, it wasn't just me he was yelling about. It was everything. Like everything wrong in _his _ life and _his _ business is somehow my fault. He just kept shouting and hitting and ... Then Damien walked in. He told Dad that Nell was in his room, waiting to see him. Dad said to send her away and then Damien ... There was this loud click. He had a gun." Lex swallowed. "He was just going to shoot my dad if he didn't stop. Just like that. I mean," he continued, his voice getting very low, "I know he said he would, but saying and doing are entirely different things."

The Kents all exchanged glances.

"Why didn't he just call the police?" Clark asked.

Lex shook his head. "Because we're Luthors."

"But ... if you filed a complaint, pressed charges," Clark insisted, "then he'd know that he can't do this to you."

"No."

"But ..."

"No!" Lex shouted. Then he fell back into Clark, shifting as if he were uncomfortable.

There was a long silence before Martha broke it. "How could he do this?" she demanded, sounding angry. "To his own son? On the day he acts like a hero? How could he ..."

"I'm not a hero," Lex said dully. "I am stupid and irrational and emotional. I never should have gone in there."

Jonathan cleared his throat. "If you hadn't, the kids might have been killed. You took real initiative today, Lex, and ..."

"And almost got myself killed. I went in without any information and ..."

"You didn't have any information because your father wouldn't give you any. You thought you knew the truth," Jonathan told him. "You acted very bravely."

Lex shook his head. "Stupidly. I risked my life, almost got blown up, and was wrong. If Clark hadn't ..."

"You acted like a hero, Lex," said Jonathan firmly. "You've earned my respect. And gratitude."

Clark grinned and squeezed Lex. "There, you see? You are a hero," he said.

Lex shook his head. "But ...." He closed his eyes, the ice pack dropping from his hand. "But he said ..."

"Lionel Luthor is an ass," Jonathan said heatedly. "How dare he hit you? I know he's capable of being cruel, sadistic too, but this? You saved people today. You acted very heroically. It was enough to make any father proud of his son. This is beneath even him."

"I acted without his permission. That's why I was punished."

Martha leaned forward and squeezed his knee. "You didn't deserve it, Lex."

He dropped his head. "Thank you," he whispered. He began shivering again.

Clark watched as his parents exchanged glances.

"I think we should probably take you to the hospital, Lex," Jonathan said."

"No. I'm ok."

"Lex," Jonathan tried again, but Lex wouldn't let him finish.

"No!" he cried, sounded desperate. "Please, no. Don't make me go. Please." His body turned to stone.

Jonathan studied Lex a moment, then glanced as his wife. She shrugged, then looked at Clark. Clark bit his lip, glanced at Lex, then shook his head.

Nodding, Jonathan bent over and picked up Lex's fallen ice pack. "Stay here tonight. If you're not feeling better in the morning, you have to go. Understand?"

Lex nodded, pressing back into Clark's body. "Yes, sir." His voice was small and scared.

"We're not angry, Lex," Martha said softly, patting his knee. "We're worried. That's all. Now," she stood, "Clark told me that you like brownies, so I was making you some. They're ready now. Would you like one?"

Lex glanced back at Clark, who kissed him on the forehead. "Yes, please."

"I'll go get them, then. Jonathan?" She exchanged a significant glance with her husband, cocking her head towards the kitchen.

"I think I'll go with your mother. And leave the two of you alone," he said, following his wife.

When they were gone, Clark kissed Lex's cheek. "Are you ok?" he asked softly.

Lex sighed and melted against Clark. "I don't know. I'm not sure of anything right now."

"You should really press charges against you dad. To make him know he can't do this to you."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Would you press charges if it were your dad?"

Clark thought about it, then shook his head. Well, no. But I love my dad."

Lex shuddered and turned in Clark's arms. Burying his face in Clark's neck, he held him tightly, shaking.

"Oh," Clark breathed. He wrapped his arms around Lex, rocking back and forth. "I'm sorry, Lex. I am really, really sorry."

Lex didn't answer, just held him tighter. Held Clark as if he were the only thing in the world left to hold onto.

Clark kissed him and lay back, cradling Lex against his heart. "I've got you, Lex. You'll always be safe with me. Always."

***

The wrench slipped from the bolt Jonathan was tightening. His arm flew back and smashed into something solid. Pain blossoming from his elbow, the farmer swore, dropping the wrench.

"Well, I see you still possess the ability to use every swear word you know in the space of a single sentence, Jonathan," Lionel said from behind him. "It's just as ... charming as it ever was."

Scowling, Jonathan turned, rubbing his injured arm. "What are you doing here, Luthor?"

Lionel smirked. "Is that how you welcome an old friend?"

"We were never friends. Ever."

"No, not friends. We were much more than friends."

"Much less. What are you doing here?"

Lionel, having never truly understood the concept of personal space, walked close to Jonathan. Picking up the wrench, he placed it in the tool box behind the farmer, the move bringing their bodies almost flush. "I heard a rumor my son was here. Where are you keeping him?"

Jonathan refused to be intimidated. Raising an eyebrow, he said, "You make him sound like a possession."

"Isn't he? My possession and potential asset, once he learns to behave himself."

"I thought he behaved quite well yesterday."

Lionel smirked. "Yes, you would, wouldn't you? What with your overdeveloped sense of self-sacrifice and all. And you've passed it on to your son."

"You've met Clark, haven't you?" Jonathan said flatly.

"Yes. I have." Lionel's voice was hard and flat, expression dour.

Jonathan rubbed his eyes; something told him that Lionel knew about Lex and Clark. That was just ... great.

"He's not here, Lionel."

"Where is he?"

"Martha took him to the hospital. Seems that he got a little ... knocked around yesterday, and we felt better if he got checked out. He didn't want to go, of course, but once we saw his back, we insisted." Jonathan felt his lip curl. "Hitting your own son with a pool cue, Lionel? That's sick."

Lionel smiled. "If you knew everything about my son, I'm sure that you would be less than kind."

"I doubt that. He behaved very admirably yesterday, and he deserves my family's respect."

"He's fucking your son, Jonathan. Did you know that?" Lionel announced bluntly.

Jonathan's jaw clenched. "Unlike some," he responded stiffly, "I prefer to keep a healthy distance from my son's sex life. But, yes, I know they are together."

That seemed to take some of the wind from Lionel's sails. "You do, do you? Of course you make it sound very innocent. 'Together.' Don't delude yourself, Jonathan. Those boys don't have anything in common. This isn't a healthy relationship. It is just mindless fucking, and you know it." He leered suddenly, running his hand down Jonathan's stomach. "It seems the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree."

With a growl of fury, Jonathan shoved Lionel away. "Don't," he said, voice hard. "Don't you ever do that. Don't compare that ... the twisted things you did to me to the relationship our sons' have."

Lionel dusted his suit off, seemingly unfazed. "Twisted things I did? You begged me to do them, Jonathan. You liked what I did to you." He walked closer. Putting his lips close to Jonathan's ear, he whispered, "You loved every moment of it, Jonathan. Admit it."

The farmer shook his head, body growing stiff. His face was warm with shame. "I didn't, Lionel. Some of it was pleasurable, yes; when you wanted, you could be generous. But it was wrong. You used me. Used my innocence, my naiveté, my fear, and my insecurities to get what you wanted. I was so afraid to say no, that I never knew if I liked you or not. And you knew that." Jonathan pulled away, glaring into Lionel's eyes. "All I wanted was to play football. I ran away and entered a world that I didn't know anything about. And you took advantage of that, pretending to be my friend. Pretending that you liked me, just so you could use me."

"I wanted to see how far you would go. And you went beyond even my expectations." He cupped Jonathan's cock through his jeans. "One blow job, and you were hooked. Mine. You always said yes."

"I thought I had to."

"You thought you had to," Lionel repeated. He moved his fingers over Jonathan's unresponsive crotch. "It never occurred to you to say no?"

"I didn't think I had a choice."

"So you really thought that you had to fuck Nell Lang while she bound, gagged, and hanging from my celling with me watching?"

Closing his eyes, Jonathan tried not to recoil in shame. "You were all I had then; I couldn't lose my only support. My only source of money. The only person I knew in a city I knew."

Lionel caressed his cheek. "My poor, scared farm boy."

Jonathan tried not to throw up.

"I loved you in a way. You were my most prized possession, my favorite pet. You would do anything, you were so frightened. I'd never met another like you." His voice turned hard. "That is, you were eager to please until she came along."

Opening his eyes, Jonathan smirked. "Yes. Meeting Martha was the best thing that ever happened to me. She taught me how to be strong, how to break away from you." He leaned close. "How to love. You never learned that lesson, did you, Lionel? You're all about power and intimidation. You've never known what love is." He pushed his enemy's hand off his crotch.

Clearing his throat, Lionel stepped back. "Love is for the weak. Luthor's do not love. My son does not love. Nothing has changed, Jonathan. There is no difference between Lex and me. He will use your son just as I used you: for pleasure and profit. Nothing more."

Jonathan shook his head. "You're wrong, Lionel. You and Lex are not the same. Lex has a soul, I've seen it. It shines in his eyes when he looks at my son. It was in his eyes when he went into the plant yesterday. When he proved that he could be a hero. No. He is not you." His face turned hard. "Now. Get off my property."

Smirking, Lionel ran a hand through his mane of hair. "Very well. But this isn't over, Jonathan. You don't fuck with Luthors and walk away unscathed."

"And you don't fuck with the Kents and win," Jonathan retaliated. "Oh, and Lionel?"

"Yes?"

"If you touch Lex again, you'll have to deal with me. Understand?"

Lionel looked at him with arrogance etched in his face and eyes. But then, under Jonathan's steady gaze, it faded and was replaced with something like fear. Not quite fear, since fear was a human emotion, which Lionel didn't have. But it was close enough.

Lionel left without saying goodbye.

And Jonathan went back to his work, feeling as if some of his demons had finally been excised.


End file.
